The Blame Game
by Musica Diabolos
Summary: Tag to Lucifer Rising. Bobby decides enough is enough...


So…um…just something random that popped into my head. Just a weird sort of parody. Kind of makes fun of extremely angsty stories, of which I've written a few myself…and, you know, the over-the-top kind of stuff. You get the idea. Humour is a bit dark, because the show is dark, but of course it features Bobby being awesome. Could probably be interpreted as slash, but that's really not my kind of thing. Set after Lucifer Rising, assuming they make it out of there alive.

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Spoilers for season 4 finale and basically the entire show.

**The Blame Game**

Bobby decided it was time for another intervention. What with Armageddon right around the corner, and all that. Because the boys had gotten through their much-needed, highly touching apology but had moved right on to self-deprecation over things they had absolutely no control over.

"Dean, it's all my fault…I should have listened to you, I should never have trusted a demon! You're right, she poisoned me, turned me into something I'm not, and now the last seal is broken because I was too stupid to consider the possibility…"

"No, Sam, if anything it's my fault. I shouldn't have said the things I said, I drove you away instead of concentrating on bringing you back…"

"But I heard you, Dean, I heard your voice and I turned away and killed Lilith anyway, even though it felt wrong, just because she was taunting me…I mean, what kind of terrible excuse is that?"

Oh, for God's sake.

"Shut up, the both of ya!"

The brothers looked up from where they were slow dancing, swaying side to side with their arms around each other. Sam looked surprised, tears filling is expressive green-blue-brown-hazel-grey eyes. Dean looked offended, and flexed his impressive muscles threateningly.

"Are you listening to yourselves?"  
They cocked their heads to one side identically.

"It's one thing to feel guilty for what's happened, hell, who wouldn't? But you're taking it so far that you two are constantly drowning in your own personal oceans of tears! And you wonder why the book series was so popular with the female population!"

He looked both of them fearlessly in the eyes.

"In order to prevent this mess from ever happening, the two of you would have to be practically omnipotent. And since even the frickin' angels in this story aren't omnipotent enough to know what's coming without the help of some random guy with supposedly prophetic powers, you can hardly expect yourselves to be!"

Sam and Dean looked at him briefly, and then turned back to each other in an emotionally dramatic way.

"But don't you see, Sam? You would never have had to drink all that demon blood and break the final seal if I hadn't broken the first one after thirty years of demonic torture! What kind of horrible person am I?"

"But Dean, you would never have had to withstand all that torture if I had been able to save you from your deal!"

"No, Sam, it's my fault for dying and leaving you all alone like that. I should have found a way out of the deal myself."

"No, Dean, you should never have had to make that deal in the first place! I shouldn't have died in Cold Oak, I should never have been so naïve to turn my back on the guy who'd just tried to kill me."

Bobby sighed and buried his head in his arms. It was so hopeless.

"Actually, Sam, it's my fault you ended up in Cold Oak in the first place. I never should have sent you into that diner alone…I should have controlled my pie addiction, and kept you safe instead." A lone tear escaped from one of Dean's mesmerising eyes and trailed its steady way down his stubbled cheek.

"But, Dean, don't forget that none of that would have happened if Dad were still alive. After all, I was the one that was driving when we were hit by that semi."

"You know I never blamed you for that, Sammy. And Dad…he sold his soul for me. How was I supposed to live with that?"

"You wouldn't have had to if I had just shot Dad when he was possessed, like he told me to. He would have died, but at least he wouldn't have gone to hell."

"But you wouldn't have been able to live with yourself, Sam. I mean, I might have even…_hated_ you. The fact remains, I should never have let Dad go after Meg by himself."

"You couldn't have stopped him, Dean."

"How much longer can you two keep this up?" Bobby asked sullenly.

"No, I should have stopped being his good little soldier and been his son. I should have been more like you, Sammy; if I had questioned him more, maybe he wouldn't have been so stubborn."

"But Dean, it's because of me that you grew up like that in the first place! It's because of me that Mom died, and Jess, and -"

"It was my fault Jessica died, Sam, I never should have come to Stanford to get you, I forced you to leave her unprotected…"

"But I had been dreaming about her death for months, I should have made the choice to stay…or maybe I should have never gone to Stanford in the first place, it was stupid to think I could have a normal life. Then she would be alive, because she would never have met me. Everyone around me dies, remember?"

At this point, the generally badass twenty-six-year old was bawling his eyes out, holding tight to his ever-affectionate but badass older brother.

Bobby could just about see them executing a perfectly choreographed dance number. Enough was enough.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay…"

"Do you two have any idea how ridiculous this sounds? You idjits!"

The highly emotional soundtrack coming from Sam's iPod attached to a pair of speakers on Bobby's desk stopped abruptly.

"There's only one obvious way to settle this," Bobby said, his eyes serious. "Dean, you'll have to call in a favour from the angels, make them send you back in time again. Then you can prevent Sam from ever being conceived. That should fix all over your problems, hell, you might even have a normal childhood!"

Sam nodded miserably. Dean looked appalled. His mouth opened and closed silently, as if he were involved in some desperate inner battle involving concepts too difficult to grasp. Or maybe too easy. In fact, they involved several common themes of his existence.

"But – but -"

"Yes, Dean?" Bobby asked patiently. "You have something to say?"

"If – if Sam had never existed, then that means we would never be _brothers_."

Bingo! Give the man a prize!

"And – and if we were never brothers, than…"

Another lone tear escaped from that same mesmerizing eye. For God's sake.

Bobby sighed.

"All right, you two, you're breaking my heart. Just hug it out already."  
And so they did. The brotherly embrace that followed was so epic, so poignantly affecting, that it could only have come from the minds of the hundreds of fangirls who, if they'd had the chance, would have had their faces pressed against the windows to see it.

"So, you boys gonna stop blaming each other for everything now?"

There was no response. Sam and Dean were much too lost in the passion of their familial love for one other. Ah, well. It wasn't what they did, it was what they were, and all that. At least one good thing could come out of this; Bobby picked up Sam's iPod and chucked it out the window, where it crashed through the window of an irreparable white Escalade with custom rims and was immediately lost under one of the seats.

That boy really needed better taste in music.

* * *

Well, there you have it. Weird, I told you. Please review, share the love!


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